Shiidon

Secret Friend

2012-02-11T21:02:00.001-06:00

SECRET FRIEND

You were there

All along

When I was alone

And did not belong

There were times

I wanted to go…

But was comforted

By the care

You’d show

Disappointment

Sorrow and rejection

Create a constant

State of dejection

Yet your presence

Allows for reflection

When all else

Seems to fail

And all my efforts

Are of no avail

I need but turn to you

And the angst

And pain subdue

I have held you dear

Keeping you close

To me you’re dear

And used against me

By others I fear

If it weren’t for you

I would not be here

I wish you knew

What you meant to me

How you help make

It possible to be

And how my heart

Can fly high

And free….

-Shiidon, February 2012

I tunes crashed. I lost some of my music. I found how to get it back and did. In the process I started listening to Seals and Crofts. There were and are many times in my life where I have felt or been alone and it is in music that I find comfort, solace. The only other musician that has done as much as Seals and Crofts for me is Enya. Of course there is the pantheon of Beethoven, Vivaldi, Mozart and Rimsky Korsakov as well but they speak to me in a different way. For some people it is a good book or a walk in the woods. So, needless to say, I have almost 200 gigabytes of music, my companions. I will say one thing though. it was a thrill to meet Dash Crofts at a Bahá'í Feast a few years back (he is a Bahá'í and does not live far from here). I was able to ask him a couple of questions about some of the songs that I have burned into my being. It was a memorable time.

Skies of Paradise

2012-02-09T22:21:00.000-06:00

SKIES OF PARADISE

On wings of sacrifice

I long to soar

Going higher

Wanting more

The skies of detachment

Beckon as I strive

This is how

I feel alive

If only I could

Maintain this state

Alas I realize

Tis not my fate

The tendrils of mortality

Reach out

And pull me back

The strength to break free

I do lack

The demands of this world

Cannot be broken

If one thinks otherwise

They are mistaken

The challenge

That holds true

Is the balance we strike

In what we do

One day

We’ll be free

Of this earthly realm

Where our soul

Will take the helm

Step by step

We draw near

To that realm beyond

Which our souls hold dear

Do not look down

On this world we know

For tis through its tests

We are destined to grow

And the more resilient

Our souls will show

Until we finally

To the eternal do go

-Shiidon, February 9, 2012

This poem reflects my thoughts these past few days. This year that is unfolding promises to be full of surprises. We shall see. I continue to embrace the tests that continue to come to me. I will face them as I always have, with a smile, at peace with life.

The Hearts Call

2012-02-04T19:57:00.001-06:00

Austin Lyric Opera, February 2012

THE HEARTS CALL

I stand by the window

Watching the world go by

Hands pressed to glass

As my reflection doth cry

The couples strolling

The children at play

Each one enjoying life

In their own special way

I do my best

And truly

To the point of no rest

Yet I can’t help feeling

That I’m alone

And my heart doth roam

For its home

We take our steps

As best as we can

For others, not me

A well-made plan

I take a step

Then wait and see

What I’ve found

In these years gone by

Oneself we must know

Lest with another

We may not grow

So, as I wait

For my destiny

I throw myself

With all I am

In serving others

And His great plan

There lies a peace

Within my heart

That I have done my part

And trust with my all

That one day will be answered

My hearts call

-Shiidon,February 2012

I have been contemplating the following quote:

O SON OF THE WONDROUS VISION! I have breathed within thee a breath of My own Spirit, that thou mayest be My lover. Why hast thou forsaken Me and sought a beloved other than Me? -Bahá'u'lláh

The poem would, on the surface, seem to be contradicting this quote but I do not think so. It is the inspiration. I have had the blessing to have found much personal growth in the last few months. It seems that I have moved on to another plateau so to speak. New challenges and new tests ahead. In this way life is mirrored by the ever present video game. We have objectives that we must reach before going to the next level. It may take us longer than others or less time. For some of us we "lose a life" and start over. C'est la vie.

On another note, I enjoyed the opera last night. In some ways, as I walked like an island in an ocean of others, I think some of the poems inspiration came to me. The silhouettes in the windows grabbed me in their anonymity.

Reaching the Summit

2012-01-19T23:03:00.000-06:00

REACHING THE SUMMIT

To know one’s self

Allows us to

Our obsessions shelf

From one moment

To another

Our former habits

No longer bother

When immersed

In actions perverse

We see no hope

Nor the scope

As we with our behavior

Do cope

To reach the summit

In lieu of the plummet

Towards which I was headed

And for a long time dreaded

Washes one with joy

At the freedom it brings

And how the heart sings

Let the celebratory bells ring

We are of nature’s two

The baser one

And the one that is true

We go through life

Searching for

The right thing to do

How can one regret

The lessons learned

From self-neglect

And the attainment

Of self-respect

I look instead

At the road ahead

No longer living

A life of dread

Oh what a sight

A future

I know to be bright

Though truly

I do not know

For my future

Does not yet show

Though through these lessons

Do we grow

-Shiidon,January 2012

I was reflecting on an interaction today. There is a delivery person that comes in most days at work. I learned a few weeks ago that she is trying to quit smoking. I now ask her every day how many, she answers. She has gone from more than a pack a day down to one or one and a half a day. I am both encouraged by her success and encouraging to her in my support. I always make sure to affirm her successes. It seems that many of us struggle with habits and or behaviors that we don't like but are trapped in. This poem stems from that thought.

Swimming Downstream

2012-01-15T21:07:00.000-06:00

SWIMMING DOWNSTREAM

The length of time

That I would sit

Hoping that pieces

Of the puzzle would fit

I would force them one way

Then another

Thinking I knew, What was right

When stepping back

Would have given me sight

It should not be work

To blend together

For when its forced

Ti's like

Inclement weather

Could it be

As simple as that

Looking with open eyes

Gives one

The biggest surprise

A puzzle forced

Will never work

No matter how many times

The effort, to rework

I’ve looked for a flaw

This I cannot find

Which brings me

To my current bind

When we work the world

To our illusion

We create for ourselves

A state of confusion

And through vain pursuits

We find from our truth

Our very exclusion

The interactions

No longer distractions

From point to point

They flow with ease

Bringing about

A new found breeze

And for once

Our very core, do we appease

When all you know

Is the wrong direction

Ti's hard to make

The right selection

When we look for

Our self-defined perfection

T'is the source

Of our misdirection

I am not sure

Where things go now

Though in truth, to my illusions

I no longer bow

And a straighter line

Through life

I plow…

-Shiidon, January 2012

I am tired from a long weekend. A conference that has taken a year to prepare for has taken its toll on my mind and body. I had a lot of interactions. I saw many people that I had not seen in years and saw new facets of people I have known for some time. It was a great time. It is interesting for me to see how much growth my Faith has gone through over the years. It was a time when a conference of this size would have been more on a national scale rather than a locally planned one. For a good part of the time this weekend the staff at the concession stand was almost entirely Bahá'í as well. This would have been hard to believe even a few years ago. I enjoyed seeing youth arise to serve. I saw others grow into new realms of understanding and acceptance. I saw a children's program that brought amazement to my tired self. The past few months have brought a keener insight to my thoughts and eventual actions. I look forward to interesting times ahead.

In the Moment

2012-01-01T19:48:00.001-06:00

My living room taken at the time of this post.

IN THE MOMENT

As I think of you, often

The edges around me, soften

I smile in the knowing

That through life

We are all growing

As I reflect on the past

Tis clear

That both good and bad

Do not last

What has been is done

What’s to come, unknown

Yet of both

Do we bemoan

Each moment is a chance

To embrace life and dance

The field of opportunities,

An expanse

So in my thoughts of you

I do not rue

For if you knew

A distance you would see

Yet tis not what’s found in me

For detachment, is a state

In which I strive to be

Though in the end

There is a fee

Of all hopes and desires

We are free

I am at peace

Though my thoughts of you

Do not cease

Ti’s acceptable to care

Though you are most likely, unaware

Love truly

Doth me surround

Though in love

With me, is not found

The former doth abound

The latter doth me confound

As I go through life

I have learned

And t’was dearly earned

Knowing one’s self

Is the first step for me

Should I ever

With another want to be

This inner peace

That often comes

Eases the heart

And allows me perspective

To be reflective

And with an easier heart

To live

-Shiidon, January 2012

My last poem was a darker one. This one more upbeat. I have had a lot of time to think with the long holiday weekends. One thing that has come to my assistance is cleaning. I have a strong desire for order. I again have my living room back in order. My kitchen is mostly in order. My bedroom, closet and bathrooms are in order. Now for Winrik's room and the garage. Winrik is moving into his own apartment this week coming so I guess I will have to think of it as a guest bedroom from now on. An amusing thing he said to me when he was accepted to the program that is helping him. He said, "Now you can have ladies over." Shahdi is most likely coming back soon but she has already made it clear that her goal is to get a job and her own place as soon as possible. So, I find myself smiling as I walk through the house. An orderly surrounding somehow helps the mind to be free. I reflect on people, places and times old and times to come but not with any particular longing or regret. I am at peace and balance (how long this will last is to be seen). So, I start my year with peace of mind and a smile.

Earthly Mire

2011-12-27T22:02:00.001-06:00

EARTHLY MIRE

The pain is great

When I contemplate

The self-delusion

That seems innate

When in my mind

A hope I create

I reach out and strive

Keeping hope alive

Only to pull back

And nurse my wound

From my goal deprived

I reel

And creating

A world surreal

In my mind of hope

But reality strikes

And I struggle to cope

Who am I

To aspire

Entering the world

Of desire

And this earthly mire

My very heart cries out

At this burning fire

Would that I had

Just sat back

Content with what I lack

‘Twould almost better be

To have avoided the pain

Of what I want to be

For tis better to be content

With my reality

For hoping for more

Is certain futility

Tis the solitude

I aspire to change

That which threatens

To me derange

For tis not this state

That brings me pain

Tis the longing

That doth remain

My ever present bane

So again

I am in this state

Where I find myself

Self-flagellate

And ruing incessantly

My fate

-Shiidon, December 2011

This past weekend marked the 20th birthday of Winrik and I found myself taking him off to see his mother and most likely his new life. If all goes well he will be in his own apartment and that will signal the last of my birds that have left the nest. Yes, we never know when they will come back but in some ways you really can't come back for things will be different. This loss of Winrik strikes home with the profound sound of emptiness that is in my house. Yes, Shahdi is coming back soon but for only a brief time as she establishes herself. She has already had a taste of living on her own and will more than likely get back into that state quickly. so, here I am alone again. Every little sound echoes louder than it probably is. I wait to hear the sound of the ice machine that will not come back or any number of other sounds.

Terry Pratchett has quoted in one of his books something that has been used over and again elsewhere but seems apropos here: "May you live in interesting times."

Eddy on the River of Life

2011-12-22T22:40:00.002-06:00

EDDY ON THE RIVER OF LIFE

I spend my days

Deep in thought

Contemplating my lot

Self-absorbed though

I am not

A new life

Comes in this world

And another has left

The heart swelling with pride

The other waxing bereft

Yonder a marriage

Here a divorce

Tis simply an expression

Of life’s force

Watching others

From afar

Yet some close enough

To leave a scar

A life ramping up

Another winding down

One climbing in joy

Another doth drown

In overwhelming strife

Such is life

I find myself alone

Along this bank

Of the river we call life

I watch others

From afar

Close enough

Yet out of reach

A barrier seemingly

Impossible to breach

I run alongside

Doing what I can

To serve others

In life’s plan

Yet outside

I do remain

Experiencing what some

Would call pain

From time to time

One reaches out

And draws near

Yet, as I fear

When I open my eyes

I am alone again

More empty

Than before

With a heart more sore

I double my efforts

In this

Service to others

Lest I be remiss

As I continue through

Life’s ups and downs

I must confess

My driving desire

Tis falling into nothingness

Yet with this thought

I do transgress

So in acceptance

I acquiesce

So I continue walking

Along the shore

Content in wanting

No more

-Shiidon,December 2011

This is a poem about the observer. I feel many times like an observer in life rather than a partaker in life. I find myself surrounded by ups and downs. I see new lives being born and other saying their final goodbye. In some ways I feel like the book telling the story rather than being the story being told. the year draws to a close and another one comes along.

Breakers of Life

2011-12-18T22:13:00.003-06:00

BREAKERS OF LIFE

Longingly, I reach out
Grasping nothing
I give shout
Is this what life
Is all about

Wanting many a thing
But emptiness
Is what life brings
To but a whisper
Of hope I cling

The past is gone
A place to where
I no longer belong
Though ti's where I long
To be

Treading water
Is where I’m now
Under overwhelming pressure
Do I bow

The future
Is what I fear
For nothingness
Ti's what draws near
And loss of hope
I hold dear

The stories
That doth me surround
Are many
And with joy abound
Though that same state
Within me, not found
And nothing but a sigh
From me doth sound

When I
Against others measure
Find elusive, their found treasure
And out of reach
Up to them, I do not measure
And dashed hopes,
My only pleasure

It seems in this sorrow
I do thrive
Though beyond it
I do strive
No other state
Do I know
Though a joy
From me doth show
Ti's a way
To soften the blow

The only solace
That comes to me
Is in service
To humanity
For I lose myself
In this path
Hoping to atone
Before I go home
To that world to come
Where just maybe
My fate will dance
To a different drum
-Shiidon, December 2011

Thought not quite related to this poem a theme came to me today. One of my children asked that I take a box to someone. He stated that they were not friends. This is a person that he grew up with. What does that mean. At one point he even informed me that I did not have any friends. His definition of friendship is spending time with someone. I define it a different way. I served in the Bahamas on a project with a friend who now lives in Sweden. We have not seen each other in over thirty years yet I consider him one of my dearest friends. If anyone was a friend of mine they remain so in my heart regardless of the time, distance or frequency of communications. It may be that this is more of the past way of looking at things or the outlook of an optimist. It does not matter. Life is short and we do not need to waste time arguing definitions. All I can do is set the example. It may be that friendship comes and goes but not for me. As he approaches his twentieth birthday next week I will not be surprised to find him alone. I spent my half century birthday alone this year. The outlook is more than likely going to be quite different. He will think that there are no true friends for him while I know that this is not the case for either one of us. Until next time...

A Brick in the City of Light

2011-12-17T13:26:00.007-06:00

A BRICK IN THE CITY OF LIGHT

The city was growing darker as the years passed. Ethan had lived there for many years. The darker things became, the more restless he had become. He searched in vain in some way to understand the darkness or the elusive light that had only so recently seemed to burn so strongly. The usual cohesiveness that had held the citizens together seemed to be unraveling with and without ceremony. Enough! Ethan packed a few necessities and, without a second thought, left his home for the last time. Without knowing it, he had set out on a journey to find the truth.

As he left the city he entered a vast marketplace which, while outside the city itself, was still tethered to the city for its support and existence. There were many stalls with a myriad of answers to the traveler and seeker. While some of these vendors sold wares of some use, there were mixed among them a host of philosophers offering solutions to the impending darkness. Among those philosophers were many a cleric plying their trade of sorts. What seemed so clear to Ethan, as he would pause from time to time, was that their message seemed to vary little from their colleagues in the city. In fact, it seemed that they were spouting the same message under the guise of new cloths and a slightly altered nomenclature. Though some of these philosophers and clerics seemed to attract a larger crowd than others, Ethan saw no point in lingering long in that market.

It was not until he had passed beyond the hill and had put the city well behind him that he took a deep breath. As he paused for a moment, he reflected upon his direction. He had just left a city that had been his home for his entire memory and yet he was almost giddy with a sense of anticipation and adventure. It was as if that breath of air had cleansed him of the ever increasing foul air of the city and replaced it with the clean air of hope and life. He had decided, almost arbitrarily, to leave the city but had not given much thought of where to go. He looked around and eventually could make out a small trail that led off into the distance. It seemed as good a start as any,and he proceeded along that path.

After some time Ethan approached the crest of a large hill that loomed ahead of him. He felt in some way that he would find his answers on the other side of the hill. He climbed with anticipation and eventually paused at the top. What he saw brought joy to his heart. There was a deep, fertile and beautiful valley that extended far beyond where he could see. A refreshing looking river wound its way purposefully through the valley bringing with it energy and nourishment. The beauty was overwhelming. It was only after some time that he noticed activity not far down the hill. There were many people involved in a building project.

The reason that he did not notice it at first is that the building seemed to be a part of the natural surroundings rather than a scar that was dug to stake a claim for one vain cause or another. He headed down the hill but not all the way. He stopped close enough to have a clear view of the activity but not close enough to be in the way. He selected a spot some distance from the trail so as to be left undisturbed.

Ethan could not say how long he sat there observing. It seemed like days and not time at all. The builders worked tirelessly and with a cohesion that he had not seen in the city in what seemed like a long time. There were other interesting observations. He would see from time to time another who had come along the same path stand, observe and then proceed to the activity below. It seemed, as he observed, that the group below was comprised from people who had chanced along from various paths. While from time to time he would watch someone leave the group, there were far more that were joining than leaving. He was so deep in thought at this point that he did not notice someone approaching him from below. He waited as the man approached.

“Greetings friend” stated the stranger.

“Greetings” responded Ethan.

“My name is Sahat” he stated as he sat down beside Ethan.

“I have noticed you sitting here for some time” he said as he reached into his satchel, “ I thought you might like some nourishment.”

“My name is Ethan” he responded. “I am a traveler from the city,” he responded as he accepted the package. He had not realized how hungry he had been until he had started eating.

“What, may I ask, are you building?” he asked as he finished his food.

“We are building,” answered Sahat, “a city” as he passed his hand across the whole valley and as far as the eye could see.

“A city?” responded Ethan with both a smile and amusement. “Your numbers are so small for such a large task.”

“True my friend, our numbers may appear small to you,” responded Sahat. “You may recall that this mighty river before us started small and humble before it became what it is before us now.”

Sahat and Ethan sat and talked for some time. Ethan was impressed by the optimism and openness that Sahat possessed. It was a refreshing counterpoint to the hopelessness and suspicion that he had left behind in the city. He quickly realized that he felt closer to this new found friend then he had to any of his friends in his past. He realized how much of a deterrent to true friendship dishonesty and suspicion could be by experiencing its opposite.

“Ethan, “spoke Sahat, “I see the day is drawing to a close. Why don’t you join me down by the fireside and stay warm for the night?”

Ethan, ever mindful of his purpose of seeking and finding adventure agreed, and they cautiously made their way down the hill and over to the fire that had sprung up not far from the path that they had been on. They were joined by others who greeted Ethan with the same warmth and openness that he had experience from Sahat. They all seemed from diverse backgrounds and levels of knowledge and understanding. What surprised Ethan was that some of these people who reflected such positive behavior and attitude were from the same dark and depressing city he had just left. It was as if some force had reanimated them.

The discussions took a natural course where various people would ask questions and others would respond. It was a sharing of knowledge rather than a dogmatic response that he was used to. At one point a recent arrival expressed dismay over the condition of the city he had just left and his desire to make a difference. One of the others responded that it is precisely that desire to help that inspired this group. They felt that by answering the call of the architect, they were building the solution to the problems that the city had found itself in.

“Architect?” asked Ethan. “Who is this architect you speak of?”

“The architect” responded a young woman, he had come to know as Adelita, with reverence. “The architect came several generations ago with a plan to build a city. This city was…”she paused “no is, a city of hope, a city of light.”

She proceeded to tell the story of how they came to be. The architect brought a plan. That plan he passed on to the engineer who laid out the design specifications and then entrusted those into the hands of the contractor. The contractor set up the work crews and the committees that would implement the plan so that they could build the city without deviating from the architects original plans.

Ethan did not know at what point he had fallen asleep but he awakened to the sound of the birds singing, the water flowing and the construction of various projects around him. He sat up to find a small meal had been left beside him. He took his meal, collected his pack and started walking among the people and their various projects.

Ethan arrived at a small wall that was being built. He could not say why but for some reason he found himself staring at the various people working away at building that wall. He reflected on the words of Adelita and the architects plans to build a new city. He saw the bricks as they were being carefully laid knowing that with the care and precision that was being manifest this was a wall that would last a very long time. It was amazing watching the architect’s plans being brought to fruition by such a diverse group of people. This thought brought him to another revelation. It became clear to Ethan that the architect must have been an amazing man. For not only was his plan transforming the surrounding valley into a city of profound beauty and purpose, but it seemed another building of sorts was happening. He saw a grander scheme in the building of a community of diverse people and backgrounds into a new city, a city of hope and light. It became clear to Ethan that this city would continue to grow as the disillusioned masses left the old city and discovered this new city. It was clear that this city would grow to overtake and overcome in such a loving and powerful way the decaying city he had left. The analogy of the river that Sahat had brought up had come to mind. Here indeed were the drops that would someday form that mighty river.

Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of purpose and awe, Ethan walked up to the wall and placed his pack down on the earth. He went and stood between two of the others at the wall. He reached down and carefully raised a brick, spread mortar on it and placed it on the wall before him. He turned and smiled at his new found companions and was warmed by their returned smiles. He had found his home.

-Shiidon, December 2011

This story came to me after reading the Priceless Pearl, a book about the Life of the Guardian of the Bahá'í Faith. Photo courtesy Bahá'í International Community.

Light to Light

2011-12-03T21:00:00.005-06:00

LIGHT TO LIGHT

In solitude
I sit and reflect
On a world
That of God
We doth neglect
Yet one day
We shall respect
And upon the ashes
A new world erect

The forces of darkness
Doth accelerate
With destruction,
Avarice and greed
The World doth reverberate
And in a perverse way
We latch on
With despair, loss and dismay

Yet all around
Should we choose to see
Are our fellow souls
Striving, to better be
And faced with this light
The darkness doth flee

Our choice is simple
Fall into despair
Or reach out a hand
To our neighbor
Whether next door
Or another land

Focus on the joys
On the accomplishments
No matter how small
For even an avalanche
Begins with one
Overcoming all
Once begun

What makes us
Who we are
Is not our house, job or car
Tis the extent
To which we show
The positive attributes
Within us all
As we know

Each positive step
Whether seemingly inept
Is an advance to the future
Having contributed perchance
To the greater good
Which starts small
From our family, neighborhood

The effect
Tis not unlike
The connection
Of light to light
Becoming ever more bright
Dispelling the darkness
Out of sight
And as we all unite
And these days
Are but a memory
The birth of mankind’s unity
-Shiidon, December 2011

We are now in our second day of rain or drizzle. We are going to have two or more days of rain. A welcome relief from the drought. I am also happy to say that I heard a blessed sound when I opened my back door, the sound of the creek flowing strongly! Yay. Everything is in flux. The world is in turmoil and yet there are rays of light everywhere around us should we choose to see them. Greed and avarice are raising their drawbridges and manning their parapets. One day mankind will see the fallacy in building fortifications that are designed to keep them out and will decide to turn away. Through neglect the walls will crumble and greed and avarice will find their place, as history. I know that this is viewed by many as pollyanaish. It is my belief. I see many a soul walk away from those walls to build a better world, a world of people for people.

Ladder of Tears

2011-12-03T20:55:00.001-06:00

LADDER OF TEARS

As insignificant
As I am
I wonder at times
At my place
And must over and again
Myself face

Who am I to dream
Insignificant
And unworthy I seem
No home to be found
In life’s grand scheme

I’ve tread this life
Mostly alone
Though truly my character
It did hone
Yet any destiny
For me is unknown
The solitude I bemoan

Those few times
I reach out for me
I regret the action
I turn and flee
For heavier is the heart
When dashed,
After a plea

The solace
That comes to me
Is when I other serve
And for Him, not me

The tears that come
From time to time
Are but a ladder
For me to climb
Lessons they are
That life is hard
Each one,
A small scar

Tis ephemeral world
Is speeding by
And twill not be long
Before I die

When I leave
This world I know
And to the next world
I do go
I hope a life of service
Will show
-Shiidon, December 2011

I wrote this today while sitting and meditating on life. It is what it is, nothing more or less. I find myself in a creative mood. Now if only I can find myself... :)

With Heart Burning...

2011-11-24T11:20:00.004-06:00

WITH HEART BURNING...

I often ponder
What would I do
Where I to have lived
In a time not long ago
And what would my life
Inward and outwardly show

When the Guardian
Did raise his call
Summoning, one and all
To assist
In the work at hand
From many a land
I would have loved
To have answered that call
To have given him my all
Until from fatigue
I did fall
And yet, ‘twould not be enough

The Master lived
Not long ago
Under His love and patience
The community did grow
And more of humanity
Of His Father did know
Oh what I would give
To at that time
Under His shadow to live
I would do all
To at His feet sit

I would do
Whatever was asked of me
Though at His side
I would want to be
Basking in His love
From above

T’is hard for me to ponder
At the awe and wonder
To have lived
At the time of the Father
And any thought of what
I would do
Gets burned away
For He is the source
Of the message of this day
Bewildered, I would be
His revelation
Would overwhelm me
Obedient, I would hope to be
Though how can I describe
That which others
With difficulty did scribe

And of the Beloved Gate
How can I relate
The love and devotion I feel
I would give all
In answer to His call
Family, wealth, my very life
And would suffer, any strife
Be it assailants roughing,
Gun, sword or knife
Indeed I would have longed
To have given my life

Alas these times
Are all in the past
In histories grasp
Held fast

As I gaze
Within mind’s eye
Hoping to, in reunion die
I reflect on what I know
That truly, They did not go
Through their messages
Continue the way show

In one way
Beyond all others
They established a body
Unlike any other
To help guide us
From this day forth
Service to whom
Shows ones true worth
And mettle
The choice to act
Or in leisure settle

Reflecting on
The times gone by
I ask myself what I’d do, and why
And though in truth
T’is not time to die
I must not, on my couch lie

If I want to
My intentions honor
I must my resources garner
And strive with all I have
To arise to this days call
And giving my all
Push forward until
With nothing left
I do fall
-Shiidon, November 2011

I have not had time to write for several reasons including the school term that most recently started. I have a respite from grading and course work for a few hours and this poem came to me. This poem is purely religious in nature but also is about not living in the past but moving and striving to act in the present for the future.

The Báb (Gate) came to prepare humanity for the coming of the Promised One of all ages, Bahá'u'lláh (the Father). Bahá'u'lláh, in His Will and Testament left His followers with His eldest son, 'Abdu'l-Bahá (the Master) as his successor and the Center of His Covenant. The Master, in His Will and Testament appointed Shoghí Effendí (the Guardian and His eldest grandson) as His successor. Upon the Guardians passing there were no more heirs eligible. As a result the Universal House of Justice was elected to guide the Bahá'í community from this day forward. This body was established by the Founder of the Faith and it's elections and responsibilities were outlined by the Master. The Guardian left the community strong enough to elect and support this body.

What came to me in this poem was not only what I would have done would I have lived in each of their times, but how I would act today in honor of those intentions. In reality, what we choose to do today is a result of what we would have done as they all still guide us through the process they established and left us with.

House of the Báb

2011-10-19T22:34:00.004-05:00

HOUSE of THE BAB

I was watering the orange tree when a rush of feelings came over me. How can a simple tree have such an effect? There are trees the world over which have some significance to any number of people. This one, however, had a special meaning to me, and in some ways a host of others. I have been watering this tree for over twenty years and yet, in a way, it has been watering me.

I was but eight years old when my family travelled to the city of Shiraz, Iran, famed the world over for its roses, and the resting place of two of the greatest Persian Poets, Hafez and Sa’adi. What was significant though to my family is that Shiraz is where the Bahá’í Faith started.

I followed my mother and father into a simple home. It was memorable in that it was quiet unassuming. I had, up to this point, seen grand archaeological ruins, palaces, shrines to the poets and other elaborate structures. The memories that strike me from this visit were internal, not external. I followed my parents into the house and we prepared ourselves to visit the room where the Bahá’í Faith started. I did not grasp the import of this visit at the time. What I do remember is that we started up a carpeted stairway. I remember my mother kissing each step as we went up. I asked her “why are we kissing the steps?” She told me that what I did not understand then I would appreciate in the future. I will never forget the feel of the Persian carpet on my lips as I kissed those steps. We entered the room were the Báb declared to Mullá Husayn that he was the promised Qaim and that One greater than him would follow. I remember my mother and father kneeling on the floor. I remember tears, though whose I am not sure. I do remember however, the room and how I felt in it. We, my brother and I, understood at that time that we could leave after a prayer or two and wait for our parents below. I lingered a bit, tugged by the site of my parents in devout prayer and the desire to leave them in peace. Patience does not sit long with an 8 year old. My brother and I went down to the courtyard where we saw a well. We had not seen actual wells in the past and were as fascinated as any young boys would be. In this courtyard there stood an orange tree. We found an orange that had fallen and picked it up. I am sure that pilgrims in similar situations, our parents included, would have loved to have peeled that orange and eaten it as it was from a special tree. My brother and I simply wanted to see how deep the well was and tossed it down.

A little more than ten years from that visit the clergy roused their followers. They orchestrated the complete and total destruction of that most blessed house.

Lessons seem to not always be learned. The fanatics executed the Báb in hopes of crushing His influence on the people. He is now enshrined on Mount Carmel in the Holy Land and revered from every corner of the earth. They thought that by destroying our buildings, cemeteries and homes that somehow they would destroy our belief and our faith. They thought that by killing believers or imprisoning them on trumped up charges would weaken our faith. They just sentenced more Bahá’í’s to prison for simply educating their own fellow believers.

A few years later I was given a tree that was grown from that orange tree in Shiraz. There are now thousands of orange trees the world over that have grown from the seeds of that original tree. Two of these trees stand at the gate of the terrace of the Shrine of the Báb on Mount Carmel. This tree that I water and see every day is a child of that tree that I saw over forty years ago. Though that house is no longer in existence, it lives still in these trees and, more importantly, in the hearts of the believers. When I see that tree I remember kissing those dear and precious steps which still live in my heart.

-Shiidon, October 2011

Upheaval

2011-10-11T22:50:00.009-05:00

UPHEAVAL

Unchecked greed

Taking resources

From those in need

To those who

Take no heed

Riches piled on high

While those oppressed

Under burdens do sigh

And babies in the night

From hunger cry

Like misers of old

They hoard their gold

And in unchecked avarice

They’ve grown bold

There is a disconnect

From the masses

To those who direct

We are the ones

They do reject

This rift

That has sent

The world adrift

Is found everywhere

And our leaders

No longer care

And those who have

Are reluctant to share

The common man

Grows weary of this

Most common plan

And is turning away

From this same old way

Of treating each other

As if numbers with which

To play

The problem does not

In a person rest

But in a system

That has long since

Seen its best

This is a new day

The time has come

For us

A new world to become

When we treat each other

With care and love

Without fear

Of love from above

Each night

As we go to sleep

Let us remember

There are others

In the dark, from suffering

Do weep

We are awakening

To a new day

Where we must find

A new way

To share with each other

As if all were our own

Sister or brother

To give freely

From what we possess

Which in turn

Will ease the distress

And will ourselves bless

-Shiidon, October 2011

There is a line that I saw on the site www.bahai.org that sums up what inspired this poem for me. I saw the striving of people around the world for change and the suffering that is beginning to become a shared suffering, even in this, the worlds richest nation in recorded history. This is the line from that web site:

Bahá'u'lláh said, "The earth is but one country and mankind its citizens," and that, as foretold in all the sacred scriptures of the past, now is the time for humanity to live in unity.

I truly believe we are headed for a unity, not in money or power, but in brotherhood and peace. I was raised with the principle of elimination of extremes of wealth and poverty. It is not what you have but what you do with what you have that defines you.

Boundless Care

2011-10-03T23:13:00.003-05:00

BOUNDLESS CARE

I think of you often

And like a balm

Thoughts doth calm

And my pain doth soften

Friends are close

Some are far

Some bring joy

And with others we spar

People come and go

And whilst in our life

They help us grow

And a surer path doth show

The more I add years

The more frequent the tears

As more and more friends

Leave this plane

And I here doth remain

The path ahead grows more clear

As my end draws near

There are more years behind

Than those ahead

Though this I do not mind

I look ahead

With both joy and dread

For while I know

T'is a better place I go

I have much failings

In my life that will show

I close my eyes

And reflect

On those who have gone by

And remember the effect

They've had on me

And how much better a person

They've helped me be

This stands true

For both those here and above

As there is no boundary

For a true heart with love

I would be remiss

To not include among those I miss

The friends that have drifted away

In pursuing their own way

And those that remain

Their presence

Easy to obtain

Though in reality

Whether here or there

I still do, their well-being care

And many, of this love

Are unaware

-Shiidon, October 2011

Well it has been almost a month since my last post. This is not because of desire but of a very busy schedule. There is much that has happened and yet little. I am working hard on my various projects and they all seemed to need extra attention at the same time. I had a culmination of hard work for the Texas Bahá'í School and am still doing the wrap up on that as well. Organized chaos is a way I would describe it. I was reflecting on friends and people when this first part of the poem came to me. Within hours I had heard of the passing of an old friend whom I knew in Chicago and the Bahamas who had given me great advise prior to my moving to Los Angeles and then China later on. Some of you may have known her, Yael Wurmfeld. So this poem is in some ways influenced by memories of her and others who have passed on as well as some who have passed in and out of my life.

We are all connected in some way. We are all from the same place and are going to the same place. There is a common love that exists between us all. We can choose to see it or not. It is in its truest form, a gestalt. This reality will be more than evident when we pass from this world to the next, or so I believe.

Certitude

2011-09-05T22:44:00.003-05:00

CERTITUDE

I believe

In something higher

Though not lush gardens

Nor hellfire

What I believe

Is so abstract

Tis not simple

Nor exact

It binds all

Believer or not

One and all

Though fewer these days

Heed the call

I see evidence

All around

Though others insist

Tis without ground

Nothing I say or do

Can prove me right

There is no hard proof

No matter how slight

I cannot pass it

From father to son

There is no way

This can be done

It is something

That is found within

I am not sure

From where it doth begin

Yet tis something

That is sown within

It is an anvil

Upon which all doubt is struck

A chance to erode

No luck

I know

Within my heart

What I believe is true

And in time

We shall all see through

The doubts and fears

That us surround

And when we reach that place

We are all bound

We shall know

For it will show

What it is

To have Faith

-Shiidon, September 2011

I had a profound talk with an amazing young man who just so happens to be my son. We spoke briefly about faith and what it was to have it. I have thought about my parents and me and my children and grandchild. Each one of us is on a journey to understanding. Faith is something that is developed. It can't be bartered or sold. The faith I am talking about is the belief in God. I have absolutely no doubts that there is a God, yet not the God that some people describe. It is as possible for us to understand God as it is for the table to understand the carpenter. We can't be partners with God nor can we ever approach Him, no matter what we do to try. It is like a moth, striving to reach the moon.

If I am wrong, so be it, I will have lived as good a life as I can. Should I be right, well then, it will not have been a faith in vain. I do believe this, we do not have any clue what lies ahead after this ever so brief life. I also believe that we are all going along the same journey together, though some further along than others.

I am looking forward to whatever time I have left in this world to see my children and grandchildren grow in their own unique ways.

Reticent Bard

2011-09-03T16:39:00.004-05:00

RETICENT BARD

I see, I feel

But cannot speak

I watch, I wish

Tis hopeless, bleak

You look, I see

And feel what may be

But all I can do

Is turn and flee

For in the end

Who would want me

Tis I think, upon reflection

A hopeless fear, of rejection

And so chances are lost

At great cost

Leaving me to dwell

On my imperfection

Aloof, I may seem

But inside, I scream

Knowing this life

Tis but a short dream

I work to be

Devoid of emotion

Numbly going

Thought life’s motions

Looking for nothing

Hoping not

Accepting my lot

In so many ways

I arise and charge

But when it comes to self

I hold back

By and large

I feel joy

In the simple things

The people I meet

Their hopes and dreams

The older I get

The less I regret

I watch many a soul

As they learn their life’s role

I watch them stumble

Arise more humble

Then rise to victory

Towards their destiny

In so many ways

Like a bard of old

I do observe

As I grow old

The ups and downs

Of the timid and bold

What a glorious life

Tis to behold

-Shiidon, September, 2011

I found myself wanting to write last time but unable to do so. So much was happening and, in the end, I wrote what came to mind. Like any art, I draw from myself when I write. Of the many things I have learned two stand out at this moment. The first is that, however, small, I draw upon events or feelings to bring about any number of stories or poems. It is but a jumping off point and not even necessarily how I truly feel or what is actually happening to me. Sometimes I write out of empathy for what I see or feel. The second is that each person takes what they want from a work of art, piece of music or poem.

Well, The last of the 100+ degree days are here and good riddance. My beloved daughter returns to the area on Tuesday and I will be spending her 18th birthday with her. I look forward to being with her. Another year is going by fast and I suspect that each year will seem faster and faster. The more years we have behind us the quicker life seems to speed by. More to come.

Phoenix

2011-08-29T22:46:00.002-05:00

PHOENIX

Can it be

We reach a time

When feelings drown

With neither smile nor frown

The world for me, upside down

My charges so dear

Are slipping away

Going towards

Their own glorious day

In their lives

I no longer hold sway

Emptiness doth me surround

My footsteps, the only sound

A window full of life

Sits in front of me

Showing others, in fullness of life

A stark contrast, to my strife

In my heart

I breach that window

From time to time

Inserting myself

Like a mental mime

Living lives

That are not mine

I pour my heart out

In other ways

A written shout

A rhythmic cry

Until those tear of emptiness

Doth dry

One thing that can’t

Be taken away

Is my heart and mind

Into which I retreat

Each and every day

And for a time

I linger and stay

What is reality

I no longer know

For the joys I see ahead

Are those that come after I’m dead

The joys in this world

When they are found

Are ephemeral at best

Regardless of how long they last

At some point they will be the past

And those of the spirit

Will be what stands fast

-Shiidon, August 2011

Well, it's been a while since my last post and much has happened. I had a milestone birthday this year that came and went with little note. My dear beloved daughter is moving back to Texas much earlier than expected which is a special joy. I will be spending her 18th birthday with her next week. My second son helped me bring the house into shape which was fun despite the 112 degree temperatures we were working in outside.

I had a profound and moving conversation with my oldest son. He told me that the older he has gotten the more he realizes that things I told him have come to pass or would not have if he had listened. He told me that he saw my flaws and mistakes which have galvanized him into not wanting to make those same mistakes. Magic to my ears. He stated that he hoped to hear those same words from his daughter some day. I was overjoyed to hear about his positive first day at his new job tutoring or leading a study group. He experienced the joy of showing someone how to solve problems and in doing so enriching their lives.

More stories and poems are on the way but I find myself numbed by this heat. we have two more days over 100 degrees and for the most part we begin with a nice cold front taking us down to 97 or 98. The heat is oppressive enough that it is hard to function. For example, it is no w11:00 at night and the outside temperature is 93.

Eternal Fall

2011-07-31T10:58:00.002-05:00

ETERNAL FALL

Fall days are my favorite for taking walks. The trees in their multitude of colors, hanging on for the last bit of sunshine, before going dormant for the winter adding a festive feast for the eyes. . The leaves themselves, clinging to life until the last moment when a gust of wind takes them to their resting place bring about an appreciation for life still lived. . The smell of those leaves, already fallen, giving off the musk of promised future life giving fertilizer. The summer has already gone, the barren winter beckons and the coming spring is just a promise for now. On this particular fall day I walked as usual in the city park. It was not cold enough yet to wear a jacket but the breeze reached out with a taste of chills to come. The ground was still wet from the evening rain and the lights had just come on adding color to the leaves that, just for a moment, would vie with each other for attention before the sun would leave and the leaves would grow dark.

I was left contemplating life. It had been a long time since I took a walk with someone and I found myself deep in reflection. I was content with my life and happy to go on as usual. I was reaching a point where there were more years behind me than ahead of me and my focus was on things other than a fleeting companionship or some attempt at staving off the end with a rushed attachment. Dong so reminded me of the lives, so desperately hanging on to the tree, not wanting to let go I was OK with letting go when it was time. My fall was here and winter was coming. The spring I was to see would be in another realm.

I am not sure what happened. Was it my contentment with life? Was it the fact that I really did want to hang on desperately for just a little bit more? I am not sure. I can only say that my life changed forever. I was walking down the path when my eye caught another walking my way. I have passed many people over the years but this time was different. I was instantly taken by this person. It was a woman, a bit younger, but not too young. It was an immediate attraction, which was surprising; surprising because she seemed different to me than those of whom I had been interested in before. . Her hair was a red that made the leaves jealous; the green of her eyes was the envy of their youth. Her demeanor, what little could be ascertained on such short notice, was pleasant and open. I was moved and for reasons that shook me for they could not be readily found. I was not looking to find someone. I was content. Why was I taken so quickly by this person? What about her? Was this to be another fleeting moment that would pass forever by and leave me suddenly wanting for that which I thought I needed no more?

I did something different, something unlike my persona. I, the usual stoic and analytically natured person, simply smiled as she looked up at me. She smiled back as she passed me by. I stopped, and time stopped with me. I was frozen in a moment and had to decide how to proceed. I could simply take that moment and sear it in my memory as another moment in time to relive and contemplate or…

I turned and called to her. She turned still smiling. I asked her the time. She looked to her watch and told me. We then started talking as naturally as if we had been friends for years. We left together and headed off into the park heading towards the other side and the coffee shop that waited.

It has been years since this occurred and I find myself in that same park, in the fall and with my beloved at my side holding my arm giving me a sense of security that I have not felt since childhood. I remember something she said about that first encounter when I asked her the time. She told me much later that she was still smiling after I asked her the time for she saw the large watch on my wrist. She looks up as I chuckle, with a smile and love in her eyes that I would do anything for. Dear world, I do not feel like the leaf on the deciduous tree any more, I feel like an evergreen, alive until the very end. The path ahead is still bright with color and I feel so alive, alive like never before.

-Shiidon, July 2011

This work is a work of fiction. I sound like a broken record at times but no, I have not "found someone." The photograph is of a painting by Leonid Afremov (afremov.com). The painting is titled "When Dreams Come True." It took my breath away when I saw it and I now have three prints, including this one, hanging in my house. He paints with a pallet knife, not a brush. Think of this story as a tribute to that painting. I have been encouraged to write more stories by you, the reader (all three of you, just kidding). One of my friends today commented on my story from yesterday and suggested I rewrite it in the first person as an exercise. My response was this story. I had been wanting to write something inspired by the painting but could not get the grasp of it. I then went out yesterday on errands and became a bit clearer of the way I wanted the story to go and then the first person idea took over and within an hour of that suggestion this story formed. I hope you enjoy it. As with my poems I am surprised at what ends up coming from the keyboard as it takes on a life of its own.

Copse of Brotherhood

2011-07-30T23:08:00.001-05:00

The three men started on the path one late spring day. They walked among the tall grass along a nearly dry creek bed. The evidence of horses not long gone could be found here and there. It was a pleasant stroll and one that would see them separate for some time to come so they were making the most of their remaining time together. The path they tread ran parallel to a more formal path, one that would allow the casual cyclist or stroller to pass through the tall and expansive trees. There was a gentle and almost unnoticeable breeze and the sun, past its zenith, was not hot enough to cause discomfort.

They passed the time conversing of times long ago and times to come interspersed with a silence from time to time while each one lost themselves in their own private thoughts. The youngest served as guide as he had made his way through these trails for many years. They approached a breach in the brush along the path and he led them through. A natural cave of overhanging trees covered a slightly wider portion of the creek still holding a steady level of water. The only thing out of place, and in a strange enough way not, was a barely recognizable lean to and the remnants of a sleeping bag with a few items of debris strewn about. It was clearly a place that some transient made home for some time. The men then took part in a tradition by pulling out and lighting cigars. They sat for some time reflecting on the mysteries of life with each one giving their perspectives on the various topics of concern for the day.

Slowly the cigars dissipated into nothingness and the three men bid the copse goodbye, thanking the long gone transient for his hospitality.

How many times has this scene been played out? Over how many centuries can one imagine this occurring? These events are the legacy of similar events in the expanses of early Texas, the Australian outback to the fields of Mazindaran and beyond. They hold to no time or place. How similar events in the future will manifest is to be seen. Let it be said though, that it was a magical time that will never be forgotten.

-Shiidon, July 2011

The Minds Stage

2011-07-19T23:40:00.007-05:00

THE MINDS STAGE

On this path I tread

Do I reflect

Or rush on ahead

I see myself

Watching me

As I wander

In life’s deep sea

Sometimes content

Sometimes sad

At what I see

Life is lived

As if on a stage

Chapter by chapter

Page by page

One day we’ll be gone

To that world beyond

And bring to account

Our deeds we shall

Up to, our curtain call

Why is it then

If we know this end

That our lives

We do not mend

When we step out

Against another

Tis clear to all

Our standards

Hath taken a fall

Yet when

In our thoughts we transgress

There’s no one around

To see our distress

And tis easy

A different face to profess

Can we in truth

With our own thoughts live

What if these moments

We repeat and relive

Tis one thing

To do what’s right

And another

To ourselves be forthright

To wash our thoughts

With water pure

So that the good in us

Will long endure

And of our own salvation

We doth ensure

-Shiidon, July 2011

Many different descriptions have been written about what it will be like when we are called away from this world. Most describe taking a look at ones life and judging. Some imply that God will judge us and others that we shall judge our own selves before God. A quote of Bahá'u'llá that I read each day is as follows:

O SON OF BEING!

Bring thyself to account each day ere thou art summoned to a reckoning: for death, unheralded, shall come upon thee and thou shalt be called to give account for thy deeds.

So a thought has been in my head. What if I was looking at my own life and wishing that I could change some action or thought. I mention thought for it is our thoughts and actions that encompass the essence of who we are. Why did I do that? Why did I think that about that person? So, many times, when I think a thought that could be construed as ill towards another, I find myself stepping back for a moment, reflecting and then asking forgiveness from that person. For in some ways, I think it is not just us that look upon our lives. What if that person was there with us and saw what it is we say or do that reflects poorly on them. What if they also saw us ask for forgiveness as well. Can this not help but better our lives?

This temporal world we live in is all we have for reference. The world of true reality is out of our understanding and so what we have left is to make the best of this world and to prepare for the world to come.

Think good thought :-)

Moshref

2011-07-02T13:35:00.002-05:00

MOSHREF

I sat at your feet

With your love replete

Your quotes and logic

Know no defeat

With a sense of majesty

You doth show

With knowledge gained

Didst I grow

In my heart did you reach

as you did teach

showing me a love

from above

like the sages past

your faith steadfast

bestowing love upon me

showing my destiny

a treasure you are

a heavenly token

with a certitude unbroken

Of this I am sure

As I kneel here beside you

At the Masters feet

Will you be found

When my time comes

To leave this ground

You have respected me

One so undeserving

Your love and joy

Unswerving

From now on

As this journey doth go

Of this I know

A part of you will I keep

Within my heart, so deep

And each and every day

When love doth not show

Within my heart will I go

-Shiidon, June 2008

Most people of faith would say that we are entering a different epoch of human history. Our interpretations of this are different depending on the belief structure we adhere to. One of the changes I foresee is how we remember people. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, son of the founder of the Bahá’í Faith wrote a book of selected biographies called “Memorials of the Faithful.” In this book He describes the lives of individuals of note in early Bahá’í history. We read about their character, how they arose to serve mankind and most important, their stellar character.

We are souls that are preparing ourselves for the world beyond. We have animal instincts and needs yet a cognizant soul that aspires to reach out and beyond to fulfill a higher nature. When we remember someone we can do so on two different levels, we can choose to remember their weaknesses and failings or we can remember their character and service to others. It is the latter of these that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá memorializes in His book. One can say that to remember a person in their weaker times helps to see their higher nature. In the Bahá’í writings it is understood that when we pass on into the next realm of God, we do not take anything negative with us. Evil is not a substantive power in itself, it is the absence of good, only the good nature passes on. There is much negativity in this world already, let us focus on the good.

The subject of this poem is a dear soul that I knew for half of my life. He was a dear soul to me and he passed on this past week. On Sunday last week he was laid to rest. There is much about him and what he means to me that will not ever be publicly written.

I had the honor in the past few years to have had the opportunity to get to speak with Mr. Moshref on a one to one basis. We spent many hours at times discussing spiritual matters. He interpreted dreams that I have had as well as having shared with me some of his knowledge and wisdom. I have had the honor of serving with him for a time on the Spiritual Assembly of Austin. What I learned was this was a man of great depth, humility, honor and integrity. I am an avid reader of history of all kinds and of Bahá’í history in particular. Mr. Moshref reminded me of those early believers that I have read about in the history books. He was a connection to a time long gone. My parents are around the same age and I have to remember from time to time that they were born at a time when the daughter of Bahá’u’lláh was still alive.

II wrote this poem a few years ago when I felt that the time of separation was drawing near. I will miss him very much and the unconditional love he showered on me. The tears that have been shed are watering the path that will one day see me leaving this realm for the other. At the end of that path will be the loved ones that have gone before me and among them will be Mr. Moshref.

Long Gone

2011-06-23T22:44:00.002-05:00

LONG GONE

With increased tempo

They come and go

Those whom

We've come to know

I watch lives

Begin and end

To God’s will

We all do bend

Others in our lives

Weave in and out

Sometimes not knowing

What it’s all about

Some come

Never to return

With some that’s fine

And others

With pain we burn

I stand in the middle

Of this circle of life

Surrounded yet alone

As I watch lives unfold

And stories so numerous

They remain untold

Some cautious

And others bold

With outstretched fingers

I do reach

And some lives I do touch

Receiving from me though

Not so much

I watch

As if tis a play

Other people’s lives

Through their joys

And their strife’s

I can’t say

I feel a part

Of this mosaic

For a start

An observer

I am meant to be

Studying others

So it would seem

I dare rush forward

From time to time

Yet I am pushed down

And in sorrow do drown

On life’s steed

Do I ride

And with increased speed

Do I stride

The years

And life stories

Go flashing by

Leaving me with others

To laugh and cry

Another door closes

And leaves me wanting

Having recently

It’s treasures

Shown flaunting

But I have learned in life

To be content

And feel tis a life

Well spent

Doors open or closed

It matters not

The die seems cast

In this life’s plot

Regardless of who

Is at the helm

Our time is short

In this realm

These stories

Will go on and on

Long after

I am gone

One day I’ll find

Where I belong

Even if its after

I’m long gone

-Shiidon, June, 2011

A lot has happened, as one can expect, since the last post. I saw the passing of a dear soul followed by the passing of a dear friend. I was able to spend some quality time with my granddaughter. The air conditioning in my house went out and I found myself sleeping a couple of nights in a 90 degree room. So much to come back to after a couple of weeks of heaven with family. I will write more about these events soon but my heart is still aching and needs some peace. Peace will come soon enough with the visit of family in two days time.

The Cup of Tests

2011-06-11T23:02:00.005-05:00

THE CUP OF TESTS

I fall to my knees

Wondering

If You hear my pleas

And hope is elusive

My breath escapes

As it flees

What have I done

To come to this

Have I transgressed

Or in some task

am I remiss

My past is haunting

As I regard it’s taunting

My memories

Leave me wanting

The truth though

Is overpowering

And with this knowledge

I must forward go

These tests

That come down on me

Give no rest

As I navigate

Life’s stormy sea

Like hammer on steel

I receive each blow

From these tests

A radiant glow

Though it may not

To another show

It doth never end

To God’s will

I continue to bend

Not willing

My life to amend

With steadfastness

I rise wearily

Longsuffering

Though sincerely

As I turn and pray

Tis the start

Of another day

My strength and certitude

Waxes with each step

No Longer feeling

So inept

For in this journey

I am not alone

This path

You have clearly shown

Through the tests and years

I have grown

The day these tests will end

Is that day

In which I ascend

To that realm on high

From where none, do you deny

And maybe then

With relief

I will sigh

-Shiidon, June 11, 2011

I recently had a coffee with a friend I had not seen in a few years. They told me that things have not been going well and that they had to focus on some pretty serious issues. At one point the person turned to me and said that they had searched for a cause for their suffering. One can either look at a test as some form of punishment or persecution or one can see it for what it is, an opportunity to learn and grow.

Tests are a matter of perspective. Recent events find the BIHE administration in Iran under assault with over 30 arrested and many still in prison. The government of Iran has deemed BIHE illegal. They have made every attempt to keep Bahá'í students from receiving an education including this most recent one. As Bahá'í's we believe that education is a right. It is so fundamental that if the family cannot educate the child, it is up to the community to take on the responsibility. I am honored to be a part of this most meritorious project and feel overwhelmed that I can be a part of these dear students education.

The photo here is of me with my cousin Ramin's son Nason and his dear wife Emmy at their wedding. I was happy to be a part of that blessed event.

Thirsting

2011-06-05T14:41:00.007-05:00

THIRSTING

Surrounded by love

A gift from above

Wishing it, would never end

That time would slow, or bend

And I would not be sent away

With a heart to mend

Separation though

The inevitable end

I walk the streets

With empty heart

Longing for those

From whom I did part

Life without love is shallow

Like a field, barren and fallow

I look forward

In some way

To my end day

When I will see burning

Loves never ending ray

It will show

With aglow

And upon me bestow

An unbroken love

I’m not ungrateful

For what I am given

And for this longing

I hope I’m forgiven

Love has many faces

And all around

We see its traces

A furtive life I lead

Lest someone

Sense my need

I embrace my solitude

As my steadfast steed

I understand, each day's a gift

Through which in some way

Each other to uplift

And not to simply, drift

Every so often

The blows do soften

When again I find

I’m surrounded by love

Unconditional, pure and refined

How long will

This exile last

Likened so far

To an unending fast

To partake again

In loves repast

-Shiidon, June 2011

I have been very busy the past two weeks. I was in New Mexico to watch my daughter graduate High School followed by a wedding in California. I was surrounded by unconditional love for two weeks and found myself wanting it to never end. In New Mexico it a reunion of sorts as I was able to fly my son Shervin in for his sister's graduation. I spent lots of quality time with my parents and my brother and his fiancee. I taught Phyllis how to make Ghormeh Sabzi so that my parents (and her) could have it whenever they wanted it. I saw Shahdi graduate with a very diverse group of classmates including Hispanic, African American, Anglo and Apache students. I was and am very proud of her accomplishments.

I left New Mexico to attend my cousin's son's wedding in Southern California. I was surrounded by my Aunt and most of her family. It was a time I will not forget. I was surrounded by unconditional love around the clock. The time away was peaceful. I returned with much thought to those loved ones left behind. I thought of lost conversations with dear friends on the phone. I reflected on opportunities that we sometimes overlook or miss in life. I thought of mortality and how brief our lives truly are.

While I did not go to the beach and bask in the sun I was basking in the care of loved ones that, while leaving me longing for more, brought a peace upon me and a feeling of being recharged.

This photo is from Ramin and Brenda's back patio, a place of peace, conversation and renewal.

Misunderstood

2011-05-14T22:42:00.002-05:00

MISUNDERSTOOD

You think you know me

I say not

There is much within

That you know not

I am not a character

In your life’s plot

These assumptions

We make of each other

Are passed on to friends

One to another

We are judged then

Not by who we are

Leaving in its wake

An indelible scar

What can be done

To affect change

And bring understanding

Within range

We must continue

To tread life’s path

Without anger, sadness or wrath

With steadfastness

We hold true

And with prayer we do imbue

If another dismiss you

Ti’s their loss

For these judgments

Are life’s dross

Lest we partake

Of that same fate

We must turn instead

Towards our own heart

For in self-awareness

We make a start

Our thoughts and actions

Have their affect

And hurt or please,

Without respect

And once we

In that state do go

Our true self

We better know

The deeper awareness

Of others will show

And as both a person

And community we’ll grow.

-Shiidon, May 2011

People are quick to make judgments about others. I have been accused of being "dirty" (messy) and a spendthrift. I have also been accused of the opposite of both of these. We think we know each other and then again we pretend to know each other. What stings is when I hear from a person that does not know me that I am something or not based on what others have spoken. Is this truly just? I think not. While it is never pleasant to be accused of something that you are not, I simply don't care and keep on going.

What triggered this poem in the end was the news story of a man that took the life of his wife and her family last week. He was painted out to be a monster of sorts and you would think so for what he did. However, it so happens that I knew him and spoke to him two days before this happened. He was upset because his wife left him and took their child. I tried to tell him from personal experience that things would work out in the end as long as he stayed on the high road; that his child would be there for him. I knew him as a gentle and pleasant soul. He died whilst evading the scene. We will truly never know him or those other lost souls. Why is it then that we feel we need to pass judgment on anybody? I remember a pained soul. Could I have done more? I will never know.

Keys to Belief

2011-05-02T21:26:00.004-05:00

KEYS to BELIEF

His eyes opened with a sharpened awareness that would not let him return to slumber. As far as he could remember, mornings were his special time of day. He arose and walked to the living room and sate in his recliner facing the large picture windows. No curtains covered these windows as they looked upon nothing but trees as far as the eye could see. The first gray lights of day were beginning to illuminate the sky. There was a perception of movement as the overcast sky was brightening. This movement seemed to match the wind that was blowing through the trees. There was a cold front arriving and its harbingers were at work.

He sat deep in thought. There was nothing to distract him, no TV, the computer was off and it was too dark to read without light. He meditated on the absolute fact that the sun would rise soon, that summer was slipping just a bit but would win out soon enough. Certainty he thought. The sun would rise. He was certain it would set at the end of the day as well. While the sun rising and setting were facts, the belief in those events took faith as well. His mind followed the thread to an event the previous day on his evening walk.

He had been walking several miles around the lake. The sky was bright blue. The air, while hot, was not intolerable. His hat had collected the sweat from his brow and his muscles were beginning to protest at what could have been another mile of walking. He decided to finish the walk and return home. As he approached his car, he reached into his pocket for the small valet key. His heart stopped as he realized that the key was not there. He searched the other pocket and his mind raced at all the places he could have placed the key all the while not wanting to face the reality of the situation. He reached carefully into his pocket and found the small hole he had forgotten and realized that the key was gone. What to do? He was alone with the main key and phone in a locked car. He was over a mile from home - a home that was locked with no foreseeable way of entering. He gathered his thoughts and with a calmness that was surprising to him, he set out to the trail head to retrace his steps. As he approached the trailhead, he looked down and there before him was the little shiny valet key. He reached down and smiled with understanding and went back to his car and on to home.

This could be looked at from two perspectives. The first one that he had turned and supplicated the heavens for assistance and it was given. The other is from a logical standpoint. There is a key. The key is in a pocket with a hole. The key will work its way out of the pocket quickly. The key would most likely be found at the beginning of the trail and within site as the key would most likely have worked its way out quickly. There are other variables such as someone else finding the key while walking by or it being kicked inadvertently out of the way. For the man, it was confirmation, a confirmation in his faith. As he reflected on this he realized the correlation between the key and faith for him. It was related to an event many years ago.

When he was much younger, he had traveled hundreds of miles to spend a Saturday afternoon floating down a river with a bunch of friends. The beginning of this journey was a calm head water capped off at the end by rapids with the equivalent of a slide over a small waterfall. It was a long and enjoyable time spent with friends chatting and catching up on old times. The brutal heat of summer was fought off by the chilled spring water. No insects seemed willing to bother anyone. Their feet were tickled as they passed over the plant life in the water. They began to approach the water fall and had to separate from each other so that they could go one by one. The younger man was concerned about losing his glasses in the waterfall but decided to go over it anyway. He approached the center where the water was all going and found himself flying over the small waterfall. As is almost always the case, with a splash, he was knocked from his inner tube. No problem, he found it before it had gone far. With glasses intact, he walked out of the water to his friends.

While they were deciding whether or not to go down again, a sinking feeling came to him. He reached into his pockets and found that the keys for the car were missing. He looked around and searched all his pockets but to no avail. He asked his brother if he had a spare key and his response was no. The situation became clear to everyone. Unless the keys were found, the prospects of going home that night were slim. The only spare key was over two hundred miles away. Everyone started to search the spillway and shallow waters around it. He went out to the middle of the water and calmly took note of his situation. Minutes went by as he thought things through. He reached out at that point and supplicated God for help. He realized that he had nowhere else to turn and that without some sort of miracle, they would be stranded. He calmly stood there, said a prayer in his heart and then reached down into the water and pulled his hand out. It was a simple motion which resulted in a set of keys in his hand. He did not grasp or reach for anywhere specific. He simply put his hand in and out of the water. In shared disbelief, everyone returned to shore. Well almost shared disbelief, for that event was one that brought faith to the man’s heart.

When he reached down and picked up that valet key, it struck a chord that went back in time. While even he could not deny the logic of the key being where it was, there was a certainty, a feeling of confirmation when that key was clasped in his hand not too unlike that event so many years ago.

-Shiidon Bahí Hawley, May 2011

So here we are, another story instead of a poem. I do write both but it truly depends on how I want to convey the thought or feeling that I am experiencing. I feel another streak of creativity coming but the mold allergy is dragging me down. I seem to be most creative at night but right now my head is groggy and my body is not cooperating with my desire to write. I am dragged into slumber reluctantly. The keys pictured above are my own. I am sorry to say it is not for the photo that they are in order of size and faced in the same direction. I get a bit OCD about things like that. It is what it is and another story of its own.

On an interesting side note. I have found myself inexplicably reading Persian. I went through first level elementary school book but only barely. It feels very odd to not only read it but to be able to recognize words in whole and not letter by letter. It could be because of the exposure I am getting in seeing it with my volunteer work but that can't be all of it. I feel like a scene in the move the 13th Warrior. Antonio Banderas (yah I know...) plays an Arab diplomat at the time of the "vikings" and has to learn some Scandinavian language. The scene that shows it in the movie is one where they are all talking at a campfire and first one word then another becomes understandable to where in a short time he suddenly knows the language. I am told my picking up written Persian is because I am a "heritage" speaker. Wow, I have a label. The next time a Persian thinks I am not Persian I will tell them with pride that I am a heritage speaker (:-)

Another interesting note about movies and languages. The movie is Code 46. In that movie the world has become more intermingled to the point that they all speak the same language. Men are referred to as hombres for example. The interesting thing to me though, is that they all said khoda-havez, which is goodbye in Persian. It was fun to watch Chinese people in Shanghai say it to an American who says it back as if it was their own.

I have said nothing about this story as it speaks for itself.

Peace Within

2011-04-20T23:49:00.003-05:00

PEACE WITHIN

For now I feel

Cast adrift

Searching for

A source uplift

Seeking to mend

Any rift

Vacillating

One state to another

I do shift

Bitter and sweet

Do meet

While I between them

Do seat

Searching in life

To be complete

When misdirection

Is replete

Yet I refuse

To admit defeat

Many a distraction

Doth delude

A hearts desire

Doth elude

While from other founts

Doth weariness exude

While from our goals

They do preclude

I see all this

From a distance

Easing my resistance

Slipping to

Tests insistence

Finally turning on High

For assistance

Knowing in the end

The requisite persistence

And now I find

A peace

come over me

And find solace

In who to be

And care not

whether others see

Tis not some glorious destiny

Nor is it infamy

Nor could I

this state foresee

It rests simply

In the words “to be”

-Shiidon, April 2011

I find myself ready to write and the nib of my pen (fountain pen) rests in my hand but millimeters from the paper and yet the first words don't form. I sit poised ready in thought and meditation. Then, of a sudden, the pen drops and the words flow. Such is what happened tonight. In but a few weeks my youngest child is hoping to graduate from High School and will wing her way to adulthood. She is already making plans for her life. My oldest has told me he wants to follow in the footsteps of his Grandfather and his brother is planning his return to college this fall. Me, well, the poem says it all in some ways.

Happy Ridvan to my Bahá'í friends.

Amber Roads

2011-04-14T21:43:00.003-05:00

AMBER ROADS

I view life

Not as a battle,

With strife

But of a place to learn

Where my heart doth burn

And my soul doth yearn

To be of service

To my fellow beings

And in that service

Find life’s hidden meanings

When we look

At what brings us down

In pain and suffering

We are threatened to drown

What is it

We truly control

Not much more

Than our personal role

The lessons of life

Are all around

Our whole life

They do surround

In them no lacking

For they do abound

How is it

On life’s long path

We lose our way

And get distracted,

By the day by day

When we know

In our heart

To do our part

We must

Make a start

As we, our purpose fulfill

Following not our own

But His will

Our soul will thrill

So, overcoming

Life’s little tests

Will help us attain

Our very best

But one thing is certain

In this, there is no rest

I strive

To at this state arrive

That joy, in being alive

In spite of all the sorrows

That one could recall

I continue with joy

To give, my all

Towards life’s final

Curtain call

-Shiidon, April 2011

Springs short few weeks are here in the Austin area just before the long hot summer that tends to form life here in Central Texas. I enjoy the weather but my eyes and sinus's are not as happy with the Oak and other pollen. I was talking to my father yesterday and he said how he liked my poem but that he thought it sad. He was worried about me. I am not sure why. I told him that once these thoughts that inspire my writing are down on paper, I am free of them. I enjoy life and the challenges that come as we make our way through it. For me I am happy to be able to express myself both in verse and here in my commentary. By the way, I have no idea why I call this poem Amber Roads. It came to me just as the words of the poem came.

I went to the movies with Winrik this week. We had a nice burger and he had a shake. We saw a goofy movie which he was surprised I watched with him. It reminded me of my father taking me to the soda fountain in Sanford Florida to have a root beer float (root beer and vanilla ice cream) and then buying me my first science fiction book, John Carter, Warlord of Mars. My passion for science fiction began then. I remember my father telling me about his father taking him for a purple cow (grape soda and ice cream) and spending time with him.

Life is shorter than you think. Don't take people for granted. Appreciate each and every friend that comes into your life. You never know when you will have that opportunity again.

Returning Home

2011-04-07T22:54:00.003-05:00

RETURNING HOME

When I know not

What to do

I reach out

And call to You

Though I pray

Each and every day

Tis not the same

As in this way

I speak to You

Every night

Unburdening,

My every plight

The questions are moot

The prayers go on

The stress acute

Yet I continue

In my pursuit

When I look

At the world around

I find that strife

And pain abound

Countless souls

In tests awash

And hope seems

To be mercilessly squashed

I can’t help but think

That as I approach

My limits brink

There is a meaning

Towards which I’m leaning

And only with time

Am I gleaning

One can say

The oasis is inviting

That tis designed

To be exciting

That being out

In the desert, dry

Makes us in longing cry

And run towards You, or die

But what I now see

Is more of how

We are to be

Tis us who

Have our source forsaken

And for empty promises

Our leave taken

And walked away

From our life’s source

Eventually, one by one

We come to see

What we have done

And with humility

We turn around

And find ourselves

On new ground

The realization, profound

Person by person

We turn this way

And seek towards oneness

Without delay

And eventually in time

We will all strive

Towards the divine

We are not going

To something new

But towards

What we once eschewed

For now the troubles,

I do bear

For of the endgame

I am aware

And eventually in this

We will all share

So my friend

Your burden is mine

And theirs are ours

And so it goes

As this awareness grows

We lessen the burden of all

When together

We heed His call

And eventually, peace

Will descend upon all

-Shiidon, April 2011

Well, lots going on and then again nothing new. There is a silence. The phone is quiet, the email conversations have been replaced by the monologue of Facebook. The space is filled with contemplation, reflection and service. What else is there? I had a very difficult week last week as all three of my children were going through difficulties of their own. My parents, brother his fiancée and my daughter were chased off of their mountain by an uncontrolled fire that missed them only because of the chance direction of wind. A profound sadness over the tests to come for a beloved family member. It brought to me this poem. A thought that we all have burdens and that the world is going through much. If only we helped each other more, it could be different. I believe it will. However, we still have much to go through before we realize that our neighbors problem is our own. That turning a blind eye to the suffering of others is no longer tolerable. What I find interesting is that, when viewed this way, I don't feel so alone in the various tests that seem to pop up from time to time.

Naw Ruz Symphony

2011-03-21T17:07:00.007-05:00

NAW RUZ SYMPHONY

The thinker walked out onto the veranda. The day was ending as he stepped out to watch the last rays of the sun as it set on yet another day, and another year. The cloudy skies grew dimmer as the sun was taking its leave for the day. The breeze was both cool and pleasant. It was a breeze scented with flowers and carrying the first butterflies of the season. He reached the balcony with his yet untouched cup of hot tea and gazed down the steep hill to the valley below and the range of hills that followed. A few cars could be seen lazily making their way through the valley with a pristine forest as a backdrop. On the near side of the road was a horse training field at this moment unused. The multiple shades of green that filled his gaze seemed to become him to welcome the first day of spring. His gaze was taken to the sun as it was setting behind the hills. A deep dark red cut through the clouds in what appeared to be lines that faintly resembled the outline of that life giving orb. It was a sight that cinematographers long to capture.

As the sun set, the thinker reflected upon his fast about to end and the new year that was about to begin. The ending of the fast left him longing for what he knew was becoming harder and harder to endure, yet there was a joy in the New Year that was beginning and the spring that was blooming before his eyes. He raised the cup of tea and then lowered it as he heard a bird begin to call. The dusk had inspired and evoked the bird to call out its sweet melodies. All thoughts left him as his heart danced to the dulcet notes sung by that bird. He could not let go of the moment, he was at peace. Nothing seemed to matter. The breeze that continued to caress him and the symphony of nature in his ears was almost to perfection. He raised his cup of tea again, yet hesitated to lose the moment. It was at that point that another voice entered the scene, the sound of a peacock calling from the valley below. He smiled. What more perfect moment could there be to end ones fast and begin a new year. He raised the cup to his lips, looked to the place where the sun was last seen and took his first sip of tea of the New Year.

-Shiidon, March 21, 2011

So, this is the first day of the Bahá'í New Year. I had a great time having my first lunch in 20 days with friends. It was, however, the evening before that inspired this short narrative. I was invited last night to the house of some friends. I was with people that have known me the longest in my life. It was an evening of love and fellowship. I would love to say that this narrative was inspired by that night, but it was not quite like that. You see it was, word for word, what happened to me last night. It was a surreal experience and it begged to be recorded. The sound of the peacock was what took me away to another place. It was almost perfection itself. I love peacocks. I love the way they look and the mystical symbol they represent to me.

Naw Ruz is also the Persian New Year which has been celebrated for over 2000 years. I was raised with Naw Ruz as the gift giving time and it was, like Thanksgiving, a time for family to gather and celebrate together. From a Bahá'í perspective it is the beginning of a New Year and the end of the 19 day period of fasting. Last night marked the first year of fasting for one of the youth present and the end of a life of fasting for another who will no longer be obliged to do so. It was a special time and I will not forget it for a long time to come.

For those of you who are Bahá'í or Persian, happy Naw Ruz. For those in the northern hemisphere, welcome to another Spring.

Inner Meaning

2011-03-20T12:39:00.005-05:00

INNER MEANING

When I thought, myself alone

T’was my reality

what have known

Now, as I open my eye

Thoughtful I reflect

On all I spy

And realize

That I’m not alone

Whether I’m about

Or at home

There is music,

That takes me

To places on high

Giving me wings

Souring, I fly

I am moved

By many a scene

Of purity proved

And the joy that surrounds

Thank You, for this world I’ve seen

To the places I’ve lived

To the ones I’ve been

Thank You, for my fellow man

For each one a brother

I have found

And this I say,

Is quite profound

Thank you so much

For the gift of love

For me to share

And receive from above

I am truly not alone

When in each person, place and thing

My heart finds a home

-Shiidon, March 2011

So the clock winds down on this last day of fasting for me. I refrained from food and water during daylight hours for 19 days now. This evening the Bahá'í New Year will have arrived. It is not the abstaining from food that has had an impact on me as much as it is the cleansing of self and the recharging of the spirit. It is quite refreshing. To my Bahá'í friends, Happy New year. To the rest I wish a great first day of Spring.

Communion

2011-03-13T10:43:00.003-05:00

COMMUNION

As I search

This world I know

The more I see

The more I grow

I’ve had many dreams

And as time, comes to pass

They seem to evaporate, alas

The one constant

That remains

Ti’s the certainty

Of growing pains

And the dross of self

Like weighted chains

We must ourselves develop

Lest lethargy and loss

Our-self envelop

The destiny, that we control

Compared to our dreams

May seem droll

But the essence is

Developing our soul

What better

More lofty goal

If what I understand is true

This world of ours

Will see it’s due

And we will awaken one day

To a world more true

We will find ourselves

In another place

Among the whole

Of the human race

Beyond this understanding

Of time and space

What we’ve done

In this world of ours

Our birth from suffering

Our growth from scars

Will determine our place

Among those eternal stars

How fleeting it seems

Are those lost dreams

When compared in purpose

To what God deems

For His words given

The purpose of which

Many souls have striven

Is to prepare us

For the world to come

And the truest self

That we become

-Shiidon, March 2011

There are different sources of inspiration for my poems. Many times it is my muse of the time, whether a person or a place, but sometimes it is something else. This poem bears it's beginnings at this time when I am fasting. The Bahá''í calendar is divided into nineteen months with nineteen days each and 4-5 days that are intercalary days each year. The Bahá'í new year is the first day of Spring, or March 21st. The month directly preceding the new year is our month of fasting. So, after that long explanation I sit here on the twelfth day of no food or drink between sunrise and sunset. It is interesting what occupies your time when you don't watch TV, live alone and then find yourself not spending time focusing on this world of needs such as food and drink. One of my favorite quotes helps explain this and I will post it at the end of this post. There is a lot of self reflection that happens now for me. I find myself reflecting on attachment and detachment. After I wrote this poem I looked at it and sat wondering where it came from. The words just flew at me as I wrote it and I was able to document was was emoting from my heart at the time.

I have come to realize how short life is and how much time is wasted on wishing for, or dreaming on things that may or may not come to pass. I have no friendships that I consider changed in my life. I could see or not see someone over time and to me I can pick up right where things were before. I look at my life and the lives of others and realize that we are all faced with our own challenges to overcome and those can bring us together or take us apart. There is still, however, the language of the heart. I do believe that we commune together in the next plain of existence. I think that we are not as separated from it as we think we are. I believe that the fears and misunderstandings that we sometimes have towards each other are nonexistent there. So, I act as if that is the case. The only time that it seems to hurt though, is when I expose my inner self and allow someone to see my vulnerabilities. I never know if they have truly understood me or not. That is in some small way why I write these poems and post these comments. It is a way of attempting to be understood.

For now, this bird is briefly soaring in the skies.

Ye are even as the bird which soareth, with the full force of its mighty wings and with complete and joyous confidence, through the immensity of the heavens, until, impelled to satisfy its hunger, it turneth longingly to the water and clay of the earth below it, and, having been entrapped in the mesh of its desire, findeth itself impotent to resume its flight to the realms whence it came. Powerless to shake off the burden weighing on its sullied wings, that bird, hitherto an inmate of the heavens, is now forced to seek a dwelling-place upon the dust. Wherefore, O My servants, defile not your wings with the clay of waywardness and vain desires, and suffer them not to be stained with the dust of envy and hate, that ye may not be hindered from soaring in the heavens of My divine knowledge. -Bahá'u'lláh, Gleanings page 323

A Truer Sense of Destiny

2011-03-03T22:40:00.002-06:00

A TRUER SENSE OF DESTINY

The peace that would

Come over me

Is in the other

That I would see

For once I thought

With another

I was meant to be

A somewhat sense of destiny

But now I sit

Somewhat numb

At this person

That I’ve become

No longer longing

For one to come

To the tides of change

Do I succumb

This new place

That I have found

Has provided me

With new ground

And with new freedom

Am unbound

And new learning of self,

Profound

So much time lost

To distraction

And the inevitable

Inaction

The elusive attraction

And a spiraling reaction

I see new light

Not as rejection

But upon, introspection

And reflection

I have found

My new direction

I no longer

Let time slip by

Contemplating this question, “why”

I move forward, energetically

Fighting off

This entropy

I do not say

That this way, won’t change

I simply say

Tis a life, rearranged

I embrace this new world

More complete

Not lacking

But with assurance, replete

So I advance

Hither and yon

In a new state, do I belong

No path, seemingly wrong

I go forth

A life more strong

The way, I was meant to be

A truer sense, of destiny

-Shiidon, March 2011

Well the second day of fasting is over for me and things are going fine. No food or drink for daylight hours leaves a lot of time to reflect on life it's direction. While I have not experienced any profound changes in life I do feel more and more at peace with the world I find myself in. China still draws at my heart and yet my children and granddaughter are here. My parents are in the sunset of their lives in this realm of existence and I am beginning to find myself taking their place, an elder in waiting so to speak.

I look at the world around and see amazing changes. It looks at first to be chaos and discontent but it is the beginnings of a world that is tired of the yolk of business as usual and that frustration is manifesting itself in a sort of venting. The fruition of a system that will answer these cries for change will come but not yet. We still need to see the flaws in our systems for what they are so that we can improve upon them and find ourselves in a paradigm that will make the world we know now as alien to us as the world of our forefathers. I believe it will happen, but not before much more turmoil, suffering and change. Discontent is rife. So enough of this. What is it I can do? I can continue to be the best person that I can be. I can strive to help my fellow man. I can try to exemplify honesty and service in my daily life. I can continue to write my poetry and stories and try to make a positive impact on my neighborhood and community. One day we will realize how much we are all alike, brothers and sisters in this short but adventurous life.

Divine Will

2011-02-27T21:51:00.003-06:00

DIVINE WILL

As I bow,

before Your Shrine

I must sort

What’s Your will

What’s mine

We seem to think

We know what’s best

Inclined towards comfort

Towards rest

Your will may not

Be what we think

Bringing us

To the very brink

If left to our devices

We would follow

Our self-directed vices

Or we sit idle

As time goes by

Looking ambivalent

Half-hearted, asking why

Year after year

Time marches on

Tear after tear

We don’t move on

We ask for direction

But when it appears

Use deflection

For it seems half-hearted

In our intention

When something appears

To be true

What is it we do?

Attack it anew

Change, is what we fear

For we hold on

To what is dear

Yet what we grasp

Is ephemeral and

Will not long last

We must discern

And in time learn

That a step in the unknown

Is on the path shown

And in time our characters

Doth hone

And the less likely

Out plight bemoan

And in the end

We will have grown

-Shiidon, February 2011

Waiting for change and resisting change at the same time seems to be a common theme. It seems at times that we sit and wait for things to change, or worse yet we get complacent in our current affairs. When we wait for change and don't take steps, change will occur but not necessarily in a way and manner that is best suited for us. When we get complacent we let opportunities, whether it is places, work or people go by and in the end it is our loss. We look for all the reasons why that place/task or person is not right, yet it is all from the familiarity of our comfort zone.

Strive, reach out, dare. Live in the now, not the past. Live in the now, not the future we think is ours. Hopes mean nothing if we don't actively step out of our comfort zone.

Passing Through

2011-02-26T20:32:00.008-06:00

PASSING THROUGH

It seems

I’ve passed through

The world I knew

No longer repeating

Those mistakes I do

Through new challenges

I tread, tis true

What can be said

The past is dead

No longer repeating

No dread

A peaceful respite instead

I’ve lived too long

In that state

Over and again

‘Twould not abate

When challenges arise

We overcome

Or succumb

Repeat and bear again

Until we know

And on we go

There is a comfort

In a sad way

By repeating errors

Day after day

And though they scar

Familiar they are

The future at times

A distant star

This new place

That I do myself find

Tis not one

To which I do mind

Gladly leaving

The past behind

Though lest I forget

And live again

With regret

I must remember

That even here

In a life anew

Tis only a state

Of passing through

-Shiidon February, 2011

Well, almost twenty days since my last post and a long time it was. I was occupied with working on a conference that was in the planning for most of last year. It was successful and I was overjoyed at the spirit that prevailed. I had the honor of working with many wonderful people and especially my cousin Darwin. I was able to share memories with Carla and Tahirih and listen to an amazing presentation by a humble and profound speaker, former member of the Universal House of Justice Mr. Hooper Dunbar. The photo is of my son Winrik helping as an usher, I had a lot of fun working with him.

Other things have been happening. There is a constant and amusing theme in my life as to cultural identity. I have touched upon this before so won't elaborate here. I will say that for the second time in recent memories I found myself waking up speaking Persian. Since I am alone, you will have to take my word for it. I have succeeded in completing several outstanding tasks that have been weighing heavily on my shoulders as well. I have had and am still recovering from my first severe and acute sinus infection since my sinus surgery.

I have, as a result of all this found myself more alone than usual. Days go by with the phone not ringing, emails are all but a part of the past due to Facebook and Twitter so there is little going on. I have felt like I have been a burden on my friends and therefore have retreated from calls etc. It is a good place to be though for self reflection can be what is needed.

In four days the Bahá'í Fast starts. I will, if recovered by then, abstain from any food, water or other nourishment from sunrise to sunset for nineteen days culminating in the celebration of the Bahá'í New year on March 21st. I will take this time to recharge my spiritual energy for the year to come. Of all the new years celebrated by all the cultures in the world my favorite is the one celebrated by Bahá'í's and Iranians as March 21st marks the first day of spring.

Until next time, keep smiling and be happy.

Queen of Elegance

2011-02-08T23:58:00.005-06:00

QUEEN OF ELEGANCE

Tis not long ago

You left this plain

Tears of sorrow

Falling like rain

I recall a time

Long ago

When I was young

And I you did

First know

You were the essence

And spirit, of elegance

You taught me

How to dance

And how perchance

We grew together

Families united

Our spirits ignited

A stately queen you were

For high and low

Did you care

Against a life

Of strife, you faced

And did dare

To stand for justice

And against despair

You left this Earth

Not alone

And your loved ones

Awaited

As you made to

Your eternal home

Should one say

You are gone

I would say

That they are wrong

For you’ve changed

Many a soul

And each of us carry

A part of you

Wherever we go

Whatever we do

One day, not long now

In that other realm

I will join you

And maybe by chance

You will teach me again

How to dance

-Shiidon, February 2011

I have been trying to write this in some way for a couple of years now. It was a story, then a poem then a story and now a poem. This is about a dear soul that I knew from my younger days. This is a poem about Mrs. Lola Baker. Some background. The Baker family traveled to Evanston and performed a singular service. They in their professional capacity reupholstered the Bahá''í House of Worship in Wilmette. It was at the advice of a relative, Dr. Muhajer, that we had bought the house we lived in. The Baker family moved into our house which was three levels, each with their own kitchen etc. Because of this dear family I had the honor of meeting many prominent people. I remember a man named Greythorn that gave my brother and I the first and only ride in a Rolls Royce. I remember meeting Jesse Jackson's wife who came to dinner on more than one occasion. What happened that summer all of us, black and white, northern and southern, these were mere labels, became one family.

My father and Mr. Baker were good friends by this time and I remember making a movie with my brother and Freddy Jr. with our fathers staring as an odd couple fighting over the thermostat setting. It was a time when the President of the United States asked the American People to conserve energy. Mr. Baker had a major heart attack during this time. I remember the night I was going to Feast, on my fifteenth birthday, and we sat as a family, the Bakers and the Hawley's praying fervently for Mr. Bakers healing. he did recover and lived for many years after that. I remember with sadness when he finally left this world. I remember with shock and dismay when Fred Jr. was suddenly taken from us.

As my parents age I realize that more and more we are relying on our memories of those times and only able to console ourselves by hugging each other instead. Mrs. Baker left this world last year. She taught me how to waltz. It was a monumental and signal time in my life. She cared about me and my family without reserve. As I have said before, family are not always related by blood. To my dear brothers and my sisters Carla and Tahirih, this poem is for you.

Flower Power

2011-02-06T22:59:00.005-06:00

FLOWER POWER

I draw the flower

Close to me

Tis joy it brings

And cares doth flee

So small and white

Pleasing to the sight

Imbuing peace

Both day and night

And to me

A great delight

Alone I sit, and contemplate

Upon the direction

My life did take

And the source of comfort

That flower, make no mistake

Why then do I

My fate bemoan

That bloom tis a sign

That I’m not alone

And that I must continue

The direction shown

The gifts it doth give

Are among the reasons

I care to live

I hold it, to my cheek

I feel it’s softness

That to me doth speak

That small white flower

To me unique

It does not judge me

Or push me away

Tis selfless and giving

In its own way

And over me

It doth hold sway

I will hold it close

Each and every day

Tis a talisman indeed

Showing that

In times of need

If we take heed

We can steel ourselves

And through this life, proceed

Upon this symbolic,

and precious steed

-Shiidon, February 6, 2011

A lot, as usual, has happened since my last post. My mother took ill and had to be transported to hospital in Albuquerque a week ago. She only left and arrived home with my father Friday. Home as such. They are right now guests of a friend in Ruidoso as their pipes have frozen from the most recent storm. She is fine and sounds to be in good spirits. We lost work two days this past week due to winter storms. There was the crippling 1.5 inches of snow. Yes, our city came to a standstill over a simple small accumulation of the frozen water. We had controlled rolling blackouts as well. How amazing.

I have accomplished a lot for my teaching work as well as other tasks that I have taken on. I listened with joy at Shervin describing how he is being appreciated at work. I spent a day with Winrik and saw a movie among other adventures. Other than that and my mom's illness I have been mostly alone in the house with little to no phone calls in or out. The silence is only broken by the occasional music I play or the movie or two I watch.

I have a poem or two in the wings and will be getting to them this week.

This picture is my back yard just at the point of drop off to the running creek. It was a beautiful sight, the creek flowing freely and the surrounding foliage coated in white.

Purgatory

2011-01-24T22:46:00.008-06:00

PURGATORY

With longing I yearn

For the world to come

My heart doth burn

My whole being numb

Alas, if that place

Is as glorious

As it would seem

In it I do not belong

But tis not for me to deem

Unworthy am I

Or so I feel

Enough it seems

That my mind doth reel

Yet unworthy as well

In this world to be

Now my dilemma

You begin to see

There is much

That I do lack

Tis fear of this

That keeps me back

Yet here am I

Looking for direction

Through critical and harsh

Introspection

My only thought

Is to serve

To my fullest extent

Without reserve

And in some way

I may the beyond

Deserve

-Shiidon, January 2011

I was meditating on this theme earlier today. Several points. Yes, it is somewhat introspective. However, one of my friends said it best. He said that he knows me so he knows that things are not as dark as they show here at times. A way to look at this is that I find a moment, a thought, a place or a theme and then set about trying to paint a picture through words for the reader. Another friend asked if I was happy. What a hard question. They then stated that it was either the past or future that dictated my answer. That was when I thought of the title of this poem.

Eternal Cycles

2011-01-23T21:37:00.004-06:00

ETERNAL CYCLES

Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall

Cycle after cycle

Following natures call

The horizon draws near

And those who are dear

Are fast approaching

The point of no return

Their loss I fear

What is dawning upon me

Is the advance guard

I will among them be

And those who follow

Will look upon me

Steadfast, with certitude

I must be

What lessons we learn

Along the way

No one can say

But prepare us they shall

For our final day

Time speeds up

Troubles swell

Though more swiftly

Do we

Those troubles quell

Lesson upon lesson

Doth come upon me

Each one a chance

To a better self be

I look for purpose

In each situation

Though in time

Many are

Of my own creation

I lament

At time misspent

And welcome

The time given

Through service repent

At times I wonder

Through all I withstand

That someone can

The inner me, understand

Or choose to, with me stand

For the moment

The tempests abate

And I can reflect upon

My present state

And upon my fate

Do I await

The storms will come

And if those before me

Are gone

Twill be upon me

To trod on

And so it goes

On and on

Life’s cycle

Each generation

Following thereupon

-Shiidon, January 2011

Timelessness is fast disappearing for me. We face mortality as we age and come to the understanding that we are not going to be here forever. My parents are fast approaching the middle of their octogenerion years. They have reached that highest level that we reach in this world before we are called into the true world of being. As their generation wings its flight to the hereafter I will find myself with no one in front of me. I am of the next generation. Mind you mortality manifests itself in different ways for each of us. However, it is waves of generations that I am speaking of. I sometimes image lemmings going to a cliff. I am suddenly on the edge and it's my turn. At some point it will be my turn to wing my flight to the worlds to come.

All this has put into sharp relief my appreciation for my family, for my friends both near and far. I appreciate and cherish the hours of conversation that uplift and carry the soul higher. As mentioned before in another post, do not take anything for grated in this life. Do not live a life of regret nor one of missed opportunities. I am trying to live by these words and to serve my fellow man as much as I can.

I Sit in Wonder

2011-01-16T10:47:00.004-06:00

I SIT IN WONDER

I sit in wonder

How is it

That one simple act

Can change everything

“just like that?”

The levels I can climb

When one is kind

To me of super heroes

Doth remind

No obstacle can

In my way stand

All is connected

Strand by strand

Floating in peace

Upon clouds of fleece

My whole being glowing

To all showing

That I am again growing

From this source

I am knowing

The light shines in the dark

Its source is

At first a spark

Which can be as simple

As a small remark

That spark doth wax strong

As it grows and fills

Where it belongs

And gives strength

Where weakness was found

And illuminates whole worlds

So glorious, So profound

Ti's moments like this

That I sit in wonder

And meditate on

How suddenly things

Can be ripped asunder

As fast as a clap of thunder

The enemy is friend

The friend is life

And forgotten

Is the ongoing strife

That sometimes, is life

They say in this place

Is worth being

The heart doth race

As we quicken our pace

And of bitterness and pain

But residual trace

The Higher power to us unknown

Only through each other

Can a trace be shown

What greater reason to live

Than to receive and

To another give

The Creator giving us

Another chance

To relive

-Shiidon, January 2011

This poem came to me this morning. I was just about to get into grading and other tasks when I felt the need to write. Without delay I sat and put these thoughts on paper. I speak to myself from time to time. No, not in an unhealthy way. We all speak to ourselves but when I find myself alone it sometimes helps to be reassured by a voice, even if it is yours. Sort of like pinching yourself to know you are not in a dream. This morning I woke up speaking Persian to myself. I am very amused. Yes, English is my first language. However, regardless of what many Persians think, I am also Iranian as my mother raised me. The other amusing time I had with language was mentioned earlier when I was in four days of delirium and found myself crying out in two languages. Each language had a purpose that I can't explain or understand as I was... well I was delirious. While most of my poems are heartfelt, not all are sorrowful. Once in a while one like this comes to me.

Unfulfilled Dreams

2011-01-15T21:20:00.004-06:00

UNFULFILLED DREAMS

I look into your eyes

And dreams unfulfilled

Do I spy

Those of yours

And those of mine

I often ponder

And my mind

Doth wander

Upon the elusive

And find myself, reclusive

And dare I say

Self-abusive

What is it

That brings you to me

Is it hope

Or destiny

One way or the other

I must cope

Do I see in you

What I want for me

Or is it simply

With whom

I want to be

I believe I know

What is meant to give

But the longer

In this world I live

I learn how little

I know and look for one

Who will me forgive

Would I know

How to receive

And not simply

From one who

Doth deceive

But who’ll ease

The burden

from me relieve

I used to think

In this alone I was

And that it t’was

A long lost cause

But nay, I do find

That in each other

We do ourselves remind

And when we give

Receive in kind

-Shiidon, January 2011

No, I am not actually looking into anyones eyes, it is poetic license. I have found myself not stirring from my home for over 24 hours and will not leave before my commitments to tutor study circles tomorrow. I have had a lot of time to reflect and think. These thoughts inevitably lead me to write. My creative outlet at this time is my poetry. Indeed, regardless of anything else I may find to occupy my time, I will continue to write my poetry. I find myself driven to write from time to time. Recently I have been driven to write a book of sorts or guide which is business related. We shall see. One thing that has had its effect is the withdrawal of family after the holidays (thought not my holidays it is the time everyone can take off) or the recent silence of dear friends. Needless to say, these are all normal parts of life that we all cope with.

Long-Suffering

2011-01-09T14:26:00.004-06:00

LONG-SUFFERING

Again and again

I lay my heart bare

And set it before

Someone

For whom I care

Each and every time

I go this way

It brings sorrow

And dismay

And the waves of self-destruction

I can’t belay

Oh how I long

To sever myself

From these dreams

Those that

It would seem

Bring forth anguish

A fate for life

For me deemed

At what point

Will I give up

And stop the dreaming

The hope

The desire

And burn them all

On life’s funeral pyre

Methinks the mistake

That I do make

Is that to someone

I do rate

Long-suffering to me

Is innate

My caring for others

Knows no bounds

But the revers, for me

Hath not been found

As I sleep tonight

I hope and pray

These hopeless dreams

Will go away

And I can focus

On one more day

-Shiidon, January 2011

This poem came to me late last week. There were ups and downs but it ended on a high note of sorts. I took both John and Winrik to dinner and a movie. It was the last time to do this before John moved to Dallas. We saw Tron Legacy in Imax 3D and it was well worth it. The movie was fantastic and the company was great. We had a great time and then I took Winrik home. On the way back to Lakeway to drop John off we stopped at the convenience store for coffee and snacks, a routine we did for years. It was John who, many years ago suggested getting something to drink on the way home years ago. Regardless of going to a conference, a Reflections Gathering or an event, we always stopped off for drinks and snacks. So in a way this was a point of closure for me.

I now find myself, well... by myself. Winrik is at home, John is in Dallas, Travis is at his grandmothers and Shervin is working. Shahdi is in Ruidoso and I am in my fortress of solitude. I am enjoying this time now and appreciate it as must as possible. Life has a way of surprising you and I don't want, as reflected upon in an earlier post, to take this time for granted.

Enjoy life, be happy and keep smiling :-)

Imbued Spirit

2011-01-02T21:02:00.003-06:00

IMBUED SPIRIT

I look with gratitude

At these times of solitude

No state we are in

Lasts forever

They end and begin

We oft look back

And regret

The times wasted

And the learning we lack

Seize each moment

Make them count

The knowledge, learning

Flowing from, life’s fount

Each day’s a gift

There’s no telling

When our world will rift

Time is short

And passes swift

Oftentimes we long

For a place or person

With whom to belong

And neglect ourselves

In this were wrong

How much better

Can we be

When we live each day

And with open eyes

The world

We see

As we live life

To its fullest

We will approach

In days to come

Ourselves, our truest

We can be

One day

It may be seen

That in a place or person

I will have come to be

And if and when

That ever come

I hope my best

I will have become

Many will say

The one to please

Is the person

In the mirror we see

What I know

Deep in my heart

Is to serve mankind

To do my part

Is my obligation

To the Lord of creation

And in the end

It is what

For others we do

That true joy doth

Our soul imbue

-Shiidon, January 2011

I have often reflected on time. I remember living in visiting the Bahá'í House of Worship in the Chicago area four years after moving away. I climbed it's steps and by the time I reached the eighteenth step I was in tears. What came to me on reflection was that I had taken for granted that special place while I lived there. I have tried not to take things for granted as much as I can. For example, I lived in the Corpus Christi area of Texas for what was to be only six months. I remember often stopping at the beach on the way home and walking up to the water, dipping my fingers into the waves and touching them to my lips. In this way, 24 years later, I have no regrets. I love the ocean and often spent a few minutes there. This week John and Jacob, two of the young men that lived here off and on while my children were here are striving for a new life in Dallas and will be gone. I don't regret any of the times we had, the time money and effort spent on keeping up the house while they were finding their way in life through these past years.

Now I find myself with time on my hands. I have buried myself in tutoring English online to those who are deprived of education and tutoring Ruhi books here in the Austin area. It is what brings satisfaction in my life. I am content with the way things are and happy with life in general. While I miss my children and those of whom I consider my children now that they are gone, I find a sense of satisfaction in the fact that I can now watch them begin to soar in this world of wonders.

Bahar Khadem

2010-12-27T22:34:00.002-06:00

BAHAR KHADEM

I sat and watched

That fateful night

When I last saw you

In my sight

I did not know

How soon you’d go

Or how that moment

Would stay with me

That night you were set free

With radiance, you did glow

T’was of the spirit, for sure

But upon your visage did show

A beauty, I doth rarely know

Surrounded where you by love

Both here

And from those above

Between two worlds

You were that night

I will never forget that sight

One could say

The love given you

Both night and day

Is an example of

A life well lived

But I say tis more

That you did give

You’ve left behind

Four souls and more

For us to remind

For us to see

Your legacy

These dear souls devout

Doth live and give

The world throughout

They shower kindness

Upon all

Of your lessons

I’m sure they recall

What words can express

My thanks to you

For all the kindness and service

You did do

You are now at peace

And though the pain

Through absence increase

Love and prayers for you

Will never cease

You are loved

-Shiidon, December 2010

A little background. I skipped two grades, went to three high schools and by the time I graduated went to eleven schools. This does not speak for stability. Amin is the longest friendship I have had, from age 3 to now. His mother is one of the first people I remember and his uncle is one of my dearest friends and the person I work for. This poem is about his grandmother and the mother of Kamran and Jila. She was a kind soul. She would come to visit and would always go out of the way to thank me for my friendship with Kamran. She would always say how I was like a son to her and how happy she was that we worked together, like two brothers.

As she aged the last year or so I did not get to see her much if at all. I would always ask Kamran how she was and to give her a kiss for me. This last week Kamran started to spend all day with her while I ran the shop. I remember driving home from a meeting and thinking about seeing her. Kamran said to not worry, however, I found that I could not drive home without being there. I went to the home and spent time with the family prayer for her and visiting while she lay in bed on what was to be her final nights on this earth. I went again the next night. This was to be her last night with us in this world. I remember kissing her forehead and speaking to her ear before leaving for the last time.

What words can describe what I experienced. I looked upon the face of a person well nigh 90 years old. yet all I saw was a radiant and beautiful being. A soul at peace and one that was ready to go. Her beloved children and family spoke to her, prayed to her and did all they could to ease her passing to the next world. It seemed however, that the glow we saw in her was almost a symbol of her already being on the way to that next plain of life. This family is my family. This loss was my loss as well. The love that I witnessed was one that I will not forget.

The funeral was this past Sunday. It was well attended and the memorial was a joyous celebration of her life. While we wept tears of separation, one could not but help know that she was now at peace and praying for our souls to progress just as we pray for hers.